|A selection of food gathered on a wet, cold October afternoon.|
Life isn't easy at the moment. Like many of my fellow Brits I fear for our future. I am anti-Brexit and anti-Johnson. I don't see much to cheer me. Throw in the continual ludicrous utterances of that gibbering fruitcake across the Atlantic, and the general state of this fragile planet; throw in the shenanigans that have become a part of daily life since my involvement with Theatre Folk, and is it any wonder I have the urge to sleep eleven hours at a stretch? Or that my dreams are infested with bizarre combinations of such matters?
So, on a cold, wet October afternoon, what a delight it was to come home from a walk in the woods with another sack-full of hazel nuts, to trot down to the allotment and pick yet more fat autumn raspberries, a few spuds, a leek, the last of the runner beans and a bunch of beetroot. Plus a handful of surviving sweet peas to put a little more colour on our kitchen table.
These things keep me sane, for a hour or two.
I mentioned Theatre Folk, even though I would love to forget about them. My venture into the crazy world of musical theatre in Germany is fast becoming a nightmare. With luck, I will be in a position to 'tell all' before long. And then vow never to go near a theatre again, unless as a disinterested spectator.